


La Terreur

by ArchangelUnmei



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Disturbing Themes, French Revolution, Gen, Reign of Terror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-02
Updated: 2010-09-02
Packaged: 2017-10-11 10:01:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/111185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArchangelUnmei/pseuds/ArchangelUnmei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four seasons. A year and a month. France feels like he's coming unraveled. Sometimes he wishes he was.</p>
            </blockquote>





	La Terreur

It is the autumn.

France knows this, because he can look out the window and watch the leaves falling.

It seems funny to him, though, because of the sound they make as they fall. A heavy sound, much too heavy for leaves. A sound like something sliding.

France imagines that the sound is the leaves slicing through the air, sliding down and down and down as they cut through the breezes. The wet sound they make as they hit the ground is just the sound of them hitting the mud.

Such red mud there is this year.

France leans his forehead against the glass, and wonders why he feels so cold.

~*~

It is winter.

France is sure of this, because his boots crunch through snow as he walks through the streets of Paris.

He stops uncertainly, wondering why the streets are so empty. There should be children playing, and shopkeepers calling their wares, and dogs barking and birds singing even in winter. But there is no one, only France, standing in the silent street. Every door is closed, the curtains are drawn on every window.

Somewhere far away, someone is crying, sobs not quite muffled enough to keep them from carrying.

France feels dizzy. He cannot remember the year. He thinks perhaps Robespierre told him not to go out. He cannot remember, and doesn't quite care. Paris is his heart, he can go where he wishes.

Stumbling like a man far gone in wine, he continues to walk.

~*~

It is spring.

France thinks that he will miss Marie. She was such a brave soul, poor girl. He wonders if Austria will remember her as he does.

He thinks about her a lot now, since thinking seems all he is allowed to do. He has not been outside in months. He wonders sometimes if everyone has forgotten that he is here.

He feels sick. Dizzy and twisted and as though he is about to come apart at any moment. Sometimes he wishes he would, so that he could finally be away from the rioting and the dissent that twists in his stomach worse than the Plague ever did. He stares at his hands and imagines them rotting from the inside out, his bones turning to mud and skin melting away, red with his people's blood.

They come for him, eventually. They tell him things he can no longer understand and lead him out into the sunshine at last.

He sees the guillotine and begins to laugh.

He cannot stop laughing for a long time.

~*~

It's summertime.

July 27, 1854.

England opens the door to the tiny hotel room and sees France is already there, sitting on the window sill with his head tipped back, luxuriating in the sunshine like a bloody great cat. England scowls and closes the door behind him, padding across the floor toward France.

France opens one eye and gives a lazy half-smile but makes no effort to move. England just snorts, eying him. Then he lifts a hand, laying a finger lightly against France's throat, eyebrows knitting together as France flinched and turned his head away, hiding behind the fall of his hair.

England could say something but he doesn't. He just scowls, but his hands are surprisingly gentle as he lifts the hair off the back of France's neck, hair that shines in the sun like spider silk, like sunlight off a blade. Even sitting, France is taller, so England is just the right height to lean in and kiss the pale scar at the nape of France's neck.

France shudders, but England tugs lightly on his hair to keep him in place and keeps kissing, tracing the scar around the side of France's neck. France makes a small sound then, almost a moan or the mewl of a kitten, as England kisses across his Adam's apple and feels it bob nervously beneath his lips.

England pauses when he reaches France's pulse, feeling the blood rushing beneath the skin, hot and alive. He's seen France's blood before, spilled with blade and bullet and often by England's own hand. But he's learned by experience and observation that only when their own people wound them do Nations keep the scars.

Suddenly angrier than he can ever remember being, England bites down, ignoring France's startled and pained yelp in his effort to erase the mark that will never leave, to replace it with his own.

France's arms come around England's shoulders, then, and they are both shaking. England removes his teeth from France's pulse, and France clings to him like a child. He does not cry, but neither does he move for the rest of the night.

In his dreams, he can still hear the guillotine falling.

**Author's Note:**

> The Reign of Terror (la Terreur in French) was the period just after the French Revolution, from June 1793 - July 1794, when many French citizens were executed. Most were executed by guillotine, though some were also beaten to death by mobs and riots.
> 
> Maximillien Robespierre was one of the leaders of the Committee of Public Safety during this time and ordered many of the executions.
> 
> Marie-Antoinette was also executed during this time for treason. She kept up a correspondence with Austria (who was an enemy of France's during the time) to try and bring about an end to the Revolution.
> 
> 1854 is about the earliest after the Revolution that England and France would have been allies again, during the Crimean War against Russia.
> 
> And yes, I know that in canon China has a scar that Japan gave him. So I guess this is slightly AU?
> 
> _Fun fact:_ A severed head can remain conscious for several seconds (some reports say up to ten or fifteen) after being separated from the body. That just makes the Reign of Terror that much more spine chilling, in my opinion. D=


End file.
